


Closer Than Together

by shcrlockholmcs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shcrlockholmcs/pseuds/shcrlockholmcs
Summary: The annual Stark Industries Gala is coming up and Steve wants to ask Tony. But his efforts are of no avail and they both end up going alone. How can Steve stand by and watch everyone else take a bite out of the man he has feelings for?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83
Collections: Stony Loves Steve 2020





	Closer Than Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ircnshield](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ircnshield/gifts).



“You do know there is a Stark Industries gala coming up in a few weeks, right?” Nat asked, casually slipping it into conversation over breakfast as if Steve had not been thinking about the gala for months ahead of time.

Steve looked at her, just his eyes visible over the newspaper he was reading and held her gaze. They sat in silence, a stand-off to see who would break first, but they both knew it would be Steve who gave in.

“Yes,” he finally replied, fluffing up the newspaper to hide his eyes.

She took a noisy bite of her bagel, pretending to be reading her book and letting the silence stretch out again. Steve knew what she was doing—maybe she was trying to be clever or she knew Steve knew and wanted to drive him up the wall.

“So, all the Avengers are expected to go.”

“I know.”

“You’re going, then?”

“Am I an Avenger?”

“Not only are you one, you’re the poster child for the rest of us,” she teased, smirking into her coffee cup when Steve finally put his paper down.

“Then I think it’s safe to say I’ll be there,” he replied.

“Steve Rogers, you’re awfully sassy this morning,” she noted, turning to face him with her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed? Didn’t get the full fifty mile run in before 6am?”

Steve scrubbed his hands over his face, already exasperated by Natasha’s prying, but she was one of his dearest friends. She was essentially his sister—he knew she cared—and so he was willing to have this insufferable conversation with her.

Not that she really gave him a choice.

“I just know where you’re going with this, Nat. There’s no point.”

She slid her chair across the floor, coming up to sit next to him at the kitchen table. Nat gently placed her hand over his and squeezed, looking into his eyes with an intensity that even made him uneasy.

  
“You two have come a long way in the last year. Team meetings are almost pleasant. Tony actually listens to some of your orders—hey, some is better than none and we were batting none for a long time there,” Nat laughed, thoroughly amused by the look that crossed Steve’s face when she said ‘Tony’ and ‘listen’ in the same breath.

“What’s your point, Nat?”

“My point is—the rest of us are tired of your pining and love-sick puppy dog eyes every time Tony isn’t looking,” she explained. “So, I’m going to need you to ask him out already.”

Steve reared back. He pulled his hand away from her and jumped to his feet as if she were a snake that just bit him. The amused twinkle in her eyes let him know he had not offended her—thankfully.

“Okay—listen. I don’t know why—”

“I’m an expertly trained assassin who has a specialty for reading other people and understanding them—picking them apart, knowing what makes a person tick just from one glance—so what were you saying, Steve?”

Nat bat her eyelashes up at him. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve conceded. “So, you’re right about some things.”

Steve closed his eyes—trying to locate the exact moment that he realized his feelings for the one and only Tony Stark. God—how did this happen?

_“Tony, we cannot have you rushing into buildings alone like that. I don’t care that Jarvis can scan the room ahead of time—how far did that get you this time?” Steve shouted._

_He and the rest of the team had just gotten back to the Avengers Tower after another difficult run in with the remaining factions of HYRDA. Despite Steve’s orders, Tony ran into a seemingly empty building—that ended up being booby-trapped._

_Just like Steve had warned._

_The rest of the team winced as Steve’s volume increased. They knew this debriefing was going to take a few hours if Steve and Tony were already arguing._

_“Oh—I’m sorry, what was that Cap? And where were you? Spectacularly not around and therefore not of any use?” Tony snapped. “What’s the point of having you as the team leader if you’re nowhere to actually, uhhh, I don’t know—lead?”_

_That one stung—the whole room could see the impact of the words on Steve. He recoiled a bit, eyes wide and blinking at Tony._

_“It doesn’t matter where I’m at, Tony. You can still hear me over the comms—unless they’re not adequate enough? I mean—I know you made them, but everyone makes a bad batch every now and then—”_

_“You shut your mouth, Rogers. It’s one thing to insult me, but my tech? How dare you!” Tony smirked, clearly amusing himself despite the seriousness of this conversation. He threw his head back and put the back of his hand onto his forehead. “Ohhh, woe-is-me. Captain Handsome hates my tech. And probably me, too.”_

_Clint burst out laughing. “Captain Handsome?”_

_“Oh this cannot be the first time you’re hearing that,” Bruce grumbled. “Tony has programmed all of Steve’s voice commands around here to only respond to that name.”_

_“Are we done here? Thor promised me ice cream,” Nat asked, jerking her thumb in Thor’s general direction._

_“It is true! I have promised Natasha some of that delicious cold pudding you serve,” Thor smiled._

_“Well, I’m jumping on that train,” Clint added. He leapt out of his chair and threw his arms around Thor and Nat. “What are we waiting for? If we take any longer, all the best ice cream carts in Central Park will have packed up!”_

_When the room cleared out, Steve expected to look up and find himself alone. But instead he found…_

_Tony._

_Who was just sitting there, across the conference table, staring at him expectantly._

_“Well, Cap? Figured you might have more you want to yell about. That was a pretty short session for us,” Tony said, his voice somber._

_It actually shocked Steve to see Tony this way. He seemed deflated. The humor and grand gestures that were just on display had faded. Steve did not know how to feel about this—on the one hand it was upsetting to see Tony downtrodden but on the other hand, it was flattering that he was willing to let his guard down around Steve._

_Not that it should be surprising—it shouldn’t be—they were teammates after all. They did fight side-by-side on a weekly basis. They had to be absolutely sure the others would save them if it came down to it—that took a lot of trust—trusting others to make the right call. So, maybe it should not be shocking that Tony would open up, even a bit, around him._

_“Uh—no, actually. That’s it,” Steve mumbled._

_“You’re sure? You don’t want to dig into my big ego? How I think I’m invincible? How I’m impossible to work with? A narcissist?” Tony stood up, his back to Steve, and hands in his pockets. “You know, the usual.”_

_Steve cleared his throat, getting Tony to spin on his heels to look at him._

_“No, Tony. Because I don’t believe any of those things about you.”_

_The look on Tony’s face was priceless—he was stunned to hear those words. Especially coming from Steve._

_“Wait, do my ears deceive me or did I hear you correctly? The great, high and mighty, Captain America doesn’t think I’m impossible to work with?” Tony threw his hands in the air. “Then why am I always getting yelled at?”_

_“Well—you are hard to work with, Tony. Not impossible.”_

_“Ahhh, I should have known you were the type of guy who obsessed about being very specific with his word choices,” he chuckled._

_Steve looked down at his hands—still dirty from the fight—and clenched and unclenched his fists. He needed to get cleaned up—he hated the feeling of being covered in caked blood and dirt. It reminded him of the pain of the battlefield—HYRDA, losing Bucky, and now constantly watching his friends get hurt by those very same forces. Steve was a soldier, but he was also allowed to know that peace was better than war. More people lived that way._

_And then something came over him. It happened so quickly he did not even realize what he was doing until it was happening._

_“Hey Tony—you know, ice cream sounds pretty nice. Do you want to go with me to grab some?”_

_“Uh Cap—you’re still covered in battle. I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Tony laughed. “But clean yourself up and meet me in the living room in 15—I’ll take you to the best ice cream spot this city has to offer._

“Earth to Steve,” Nat repeated, now waving her hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

“Sorry—” Steve blinked. “I was just trying to…never mind. I’m not having this conversation right now, I’m running late for meeting Tony in his shop.”  
“Better hurry up, you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting!”

“Love you too, Nat!”

~

Steve was in what had become his ‘usual spot’—the old, beat up couch in the corner of Tony’s garage workshop. It was this tan, completely innocuous sofa that had been stuffed in the corner with a coffee table. There was a giant dust-covered box with antenna on a table in front of the couch. A few weeks ago Tony had said the giant box was an antique tv—which sounded to Steve like a pathetic attempt at making really ancient appliances sound appealing.

Ever since they grabbed ice cream together the olive branch was officially extended. They still argued endlessly during team meetings, but unlike before, it did not follow them outside the conference rooms. In fact, the second they walked out of a meeting the two of them were usually making one another laugh hysterically.

One night, Tony invited Steve down to his workshop to show him something he was working on.

In the moment Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at Tony’s invitation. But it became increasingly apparent how head over heels Steve was for him as they huddled close together over the workbench that night. His senses were entirely overwhelmed by Tony—which was not completely new, Tony had a tendency to be overwhelming—but this time it was different.

The smell of Tony—motor oil, coffee, and mint—was intoxicating. Whenever Tony’s calloused fingers brushed against his own it made his heart jump in his throat. Yeah—this was different.

In fact, the last time he could clearly remember feeling this way was around Peggy.

And it all really started that first night, huddled over the work bench together in a strange space of intimacy, something changed. The new awareness of his feelings for Tony was crippling and thrilling. It had been too long since his last date—over 70 years to be exact—and he had yet to feel something quite like this since waking up in the new world.

But recognizing feelings and doing something about them were two separate things.

Regardless, Steve was grateful that Tony kept his invitation to join him in the permanently workshop open. Now it was part of his daily routine to wander down there, make a nest on the couch, and sketch for hours on end. And he was lucky to have the perfect model unknowingly wandering around and posing throughout the room.

“What are you drawing?” Tony’s voice startled Steve out of his zone and he immediately snapped the sketchbook shut to hide his work in progress of Tony welding.  
“Nothing interesting,” Steve shrugged.

“Oh come on, you? Not doing something interesting? I highly doubt that—especially with how talented you are with a pencil,” Tony replied, plopping down on the sofa next to him. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he breathed out a long sigh.

Steve flushed red at the compliment.

“Well, it’s not nearly as interesting as whatever you’re working on,” Steve chuckled. “I don’t create things that save people’s lives.”

“Not that you know of, Rogers. But art can have a profound impact on a person’s life,” Tony countered, his eyebrows raised high and an earnest look in his eyes. “Okay but seriously—Steve, if I ever hear you talk down about your own amazing artistic ability again, we’re going back to the uniform Coulson made you that your ass looks horrible in, you got it?”

This sent Steve into a fit of laughter which Tony joined in on. When they finally collected themselves, stomachs hurting and cheeks streaked in tears, Steve made an impulsive (and horrifying) decision.

He was going to ask Tony out.

“Hey, uh Tony?”

Tony wiped the final tears of laughter off his face and turned to look at Steve. He quirked one eyebrow, “Yes?”

“The Stark Industries Gala is coming up, right?”

Tony groaned. Well—that wasn’t a good sign.

“Regrettably.”

“Huh? Why?”

“They’re always unbearable. But at least I usually had Pepper at my side to make things less horrible. We’ve been broken up for a year and I doubt her new boyfriend would want her on my arm at such a public event,” Tony sighed.

“I actually hate them, you know? The galas,” he continued. “They’re fake. They make me hate myself—who I pretend to be when I’m there. And everyone there wants a bite of me—money, science, my brain, sex—they all want something. It is draining. Dehumanizing. They don’t see me, they see what I have to offer.”

Steve sat in silence—taking in Tony’s words and mulling them over. God—how wrong he had been about Tony when he first met him. And apparently that was not a rare phenomenon—assuming the worst of Tony Stark. He knew people made the argument that Tony’s recklessness as a young adult was reason enough to dislike him now, but that was bullshit. And flat out unfair.

“I’m sorry Tony—I had no idea. Everyone always says…”

“I know what they say. That I love to party and love to be the center of attention—but not anymore. Maybe once upon a time. Or maybe I really was just trying to piss everyone off, who knows?” he shrugged again. “Sorry—I did not mean to lay all of that on you.”

“Tony—we are friends. Teammates. You’re allowed to talk about your feelings,” he chuckled. The slight blush that dusted Tony’s cheeks was alarmingly satisfying.

There were a few moments of silence that stretched out between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was strangely comfortable and the realization of that brought comfort to Steve that the two of them really had moved beyond their first bad impressions of one another.

“You’ll be at the Gala, Cap?”

“Well, Stark Industries asked all the Avengers to be there. So, yeah?”

Tony groaned again.

“When you say S.I., you mean Pepper. Of course—she sees all of us there together as a big money grab opportunity,” Tony sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “Well, at least you all being there will make it more bearable.”

Steve stayed silent—Tony and Pepper had been broken up for about a year now. The aftermath of the Battle of New York was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She could not stand by and watch him continue to almost die inside a red and gold suit of armor. And Tony could not put the armor away forever and sleep soundly at night.

But given his feelings for Tony the last thing it was his place to do was comment on Pepper. His stomach twisted at the sound of her name though—it reminded him how picture perfect of a couple the two of them were. Sure—Pepper could never fully understand Tony’s love and dedication for Iron Man and the Avengers—but it was obvious she was the perfect catch.

Something Steve was not.

Pepper was beautiful, brilliant, strong, and successful.

And then it hit. Maybe asking Tony to the gala was a bad idea. And then it hit Steve harder—of course it was a bad idea. How had he ever considered it otherwise? Not only were they teammates that just recently began to be able to stay in the same room for longer than a minute, but Steve could not compare to Pepper.

“Earth to Steve?” Tony’s voice jolted him back to reality once more.

“Uh—sorry Tony. Got lost in thought,” Steve replied sheepishly.

“I could tell.”

“Actually—you know what Tony, I need to go talk to Nat about training drills. I completely forgot,” Steve said, gathering up his things and standing to his feet. He did his best to ignore the wide Bambi-eyed stare Tony was giving him. “Sorry.”

~

The gala was officially six days away and Steve had yet to officially ask Tony to go. After his retreat from the workshop, both Nat and Sam managed to corner him into a deeper conversation about what was going on. And despite Steve’s best attempts at avoiding them, he should have known better than to try and escape a master assassin and Sam Wilson, best friend and counselor extraordinaire.

“Steve—I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you see yourself accurately,” Sam finally said. Nat released a loud breath through her nose in agreement.

“I’m not tracking,” Steve replied.

“Man—if I have to hear you compare yourself to Pepper or Tony one more time…you keep going around in circles about how much better they are than you,” Sam snapped. “It’s bullshit.”

The harshness of Sam’s tone kept Steve’s mouth shut. He knew Sam well enough to know the tone was meant lovingly—like a therapist dropping a reality bomb down in the middle of a session. So he sat there, fiddling with his hands in his lap, and staring down at his feet.

Because it was impossible to see things from Nat and Sam’s perspectives. They didn’t understand—they had him on a pedestal, not something he deserved, but something often given to him simply because he let a few scientists inject him with a serum. Nat, Sam—everyone—they saw Captain America, not Steve Rogers.

Captain America was a hero, a leader, and someone to be desired by everyone. But that was a costume and a title, not the true essence of who Steve was. He knew without a doubt that on the inside he was still that scrawny kid from Brooklyn who almost died from the common cold more times than he would care to admit. He was still the kid who needed Bucky to save him from every fight he threw himself into just to prove that he wasn’t weak. And he was still the kid that had to lie to get into the military because even they knew he was not good enough as is.

Steve knew he had good qualities as himself, too. He was not fully delusional. He prided himself in his tenacity, honesty, loyalty, and compassion. But those were not unique qualities, especially not among the Avengers. So how much did they matter really?

Besides, this was not just about who Steve was or wasn’t, this was about the likelihood of him dating Tony Stark. And who were Nat and Sam kidding? Tony could have literally anyone he wanted, why would he even want Steve? A meager text message would have any suitor speeding their way towards the Tower for a date with Tony.

“You’re going to try and properly ask him out,” Nat said and Steve did not dare argue with her given the deadly look on her face. She was putting her foot down.

“Okay.”

“Steve—seriously. I wish you saw you the way everyone else does. And no, I’m not talking about as Captain America,” Sam said. “I’m talking about the way we see you—how the rest of the team sees you. How Tony sees you? You’re one in a million man. Maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

~

He could not give Tony the types of things most people could. Steve was not rich—so no fancy dates or expensive cars as gifts were an option. Steve was not well-connected—Captain America was—so he could not sneak them into a fully booked restaurant. And these were the types of things Tony had seemingly enjoyed before leaving Steve at a loss of what to do.

“Be yourself,” Sam had said, as if it were that simple.

But Steve took those words to heart. And the result was an idea to give Tony one of his best sketches of him working away in his shop. In his mind this was one of the most romantic gestures he could muster—he had poured endless hours into that sketch—it was a visual representation of how much he cared about Tony.

Steve entered Tony’s shop feeling more apprehensive than usual. He carefully held the now framed sketch behind his back so that Tony did not see it right away.

“Steve! You’re late!” Tony shouted over the sound of the drill he was using. “You’re usually here hours ago.”  
“Sorry—was finishing up some work,” Steve apologized. “Hey, do you have a second?”

Tony turned off the machine he was using and pushed his goggles up on the top of his head. Pulling off his gloves, he walked over to Steve and the couch with a quirked eyebrow. “Sure do, what’s up?”

This was the moment—the big one—where Tony finally realized what he meant to Steve. And the gravity of it was not lost on him—his stomach was full of butterflies and he was fairly certain his hands were sweaty.

“Well—I just wanted to give you something I’ve been working on for you. Y’know, as a gift,” Steve stumbled through his words, the nervousness dripping off him, and a light blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Gift? I love gifts!” Tony exclaimed. “Gimme, gimme. It’s okay, I’ll let you hand me something.”

He held out his hands, making grabby hands, with a large grin on his face. Steve could not help but chuckle as he gently placed the framed sketch in Tony’s palms. His heart pounded in his throat as he waited for Tony’s reaction.

Tony stared down at the art in his hands, mouth hanging open a bit, and eyes sparkling. He turned it over in his hands a few times, looking at it from every angle, before making eye contact with Steve again. There was a subtle blush on his face when he spoke, “This is beautiful Steve. You’re really talented. If this superhero stuff ever gets boring, I’ll get you a job in animation or something. Disney loves me.”

“Yeah—thank you for your kind words Tony. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do! In fact,” Tony held up one finger before spinning on his heel and walking over to one of his work areas. He made quick work of hanging up the art right above the bench he used the most. “See? Perfect. It was meant to be here.”

Steve left Tony’s workshop feeling incredibly defeated and frustrated with himself. How did Tony not automatically understand the implications of that gift? But even he could hear Bucky’s laughter in the back of his head telling him he never knew how to ask people out correctly. He should have known.

The next few days were filled with other valiant but failed attempts. Steve thought making Tony’s favorite dinner and bringing it down to him would work. Wrong. Taking Tony to his favorite art gallery? Didn’t work. He even got Tony to agree to a baseball game and that didn’t work either. Despite all of his best efforts Tony seemed completely oblivious to Steve’s advances and his feelings.

~

It was the night of the Stark Industries Gala and the Tower was done up to the nines.

Nat had helped Steve pick out his suit—a nice dark blue one with a white shirt and black tie with subtle red accents woven in. As he glimpsed his reflection in a window Steve was surprised to recognize that he felt confident in this outfit. Normally fancy clothes left him feeling out of place and back on the streets of Brooklyn begging for food, but Nat knew what she was doing. This felt like him.

The Gala kicked off just as Steve had expected it to—Pepper opened up with a speech, her new beau close-by, and the room was swimming with rich jerks looking to get something out of Tony or S.I. for their own selfish endeavors. Even the thought of that made Steve’s stomach sick—he hated the idea of people coming here to simply to take advantage of Tony, his intellect, and his money.

“Here, you look like you need a drink,” Nat said, shoving a cocktail of some sort into Steve’s hands.

“Nat, you know I can’t get drunk.”

“I know, but holding alcohol might help?” she replied, smiling innocently up at him. “You’re over here brooding in a corner because you didn’t ask your crush out to the dance. Just drink.”

She had a point. He took a sip.

“Thanks Nat.”

His eyes wandered back over to Tony across the room—he was mid-conversation with about four other suits who looked ready to devour him whole. And all Steve could think about were Tony’s words back in his workshop about hating all of this performative bullshit and the leeches that showed up for it. If Nat had not taken the drink of out his hand it would have shattered as his grip tightened.

Tony’s public persona was faltering and Steve could see—even from across the room. Steve knew his anxious ticks and they were all at play right now—tapping foot, fidgeting hands, unable to make eye contact.

The rage in Steve’s belly was growing.

But then he remembered—Tony wasn’t his. No matter how much he wanted him to be or how much Steve already felt like he was Tony’s. But it was Steve’s fault that he was here alone and not as Tony’s date. If he were Tony’s date then he would have every right to punch those asshole suits in the face—but he wasn’t.  
And yet, Tony was the one who had given him a home in this new century—metaphorically and physically. Tony gave Steve an entire suit in the Tower—a bed, a place to sleep that wasn’t plain brown walls at SHIELD. And Tony let all the Avengers live there. He made them a family by giving them a family home. Maybe Steve was not here as Tony’s date, but that did not mean they were strangers.

Steve looked down at his clenched fists and frowned. He could not stand by and let Tony be openly harassed by people who did not care about him as anything beyond a resource.

So that was that.

Steve crossed the room to where Tony was. He stood tall and confident—emitting all of this Captain America energy. When he came to stand next to Tony the suits trying to get something out of him visibly shrank. Steve knew how to make his presence intimidating when he needed to, but thankfully Tony somehow knew it was not directed at him. Instead, Tony seemed to have formed an amused smirk at Steve’s antics and overprotectiveness.

“Excuse me, but Tony has better things to do with his evening and actually has something important to attend to. I’m sure Ms. Potts would be happy to receive your donation checks,” Steve said. He placed his hand firmly on the small of Tony’s back and smiled down at him. “Ready?”

“Aye, aye Captain,” Tony laughed as Steve steered him away.

~

“Don’t stand there looking like I’m some Southern Belle you just dropped off at her pa’s house, come in Steve,” Tony laughed, holding his suite door open for him to come in. Immediately after Steve had saved him from life draining investors Tony had asked to just go back to his room—uninterested in socializing further and leaving the fundraising up to Thor’s bulging biceps.

“Right, sorry,” Steve mumbled as he scurried in and the door snapped shut behind him.

Tony paced his room, shucking off his suit jacket and undoing his cufflinks, on edge about something. Steve felt guilty—had he overstepped? Had he upset Tony? That would be just his luck.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Tony broke the silence. “Just because of what I told you in the shop the other week.”

“N-no—no, Tony, that’s not why I did it,” Steve replied. “I mean—it partially is but no one should have to endure that. It’s gross. Dehumanizing—I hated seeing it happen and honestly I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Steve. I actually really do appreciate it. I just didn’t want you to feel like I made you do that or anything,” Tony said, rubbing he back of his neck. “But thank you.”

Steve stood there, just inside the room, still as a statue and unsure of how to proceed. Tony had invited him in, but not made it clear why or if there was any point beyond saying thank you. Maybe he should just leave now that was done with.

“You’re welcome Tony. Any time, really. Anyway, I’ll get going now—”

“You know Steve, you do not give yourself nearly enough credit for how phenomenal you are. I always thought being Captain America would get to anyone’s head—apparently not. You’re not humble, you’re downright self-deprecating. Believe me, I know it when I see it. I created self-deprecating,” Tony said, launching into a speech that Steve had no idea where it was coming from.

“Tony?”

“Just give me a second,” he replied, holding a finger up. “I need you to hear this.”

Steve nodded.

“You’re not only the most capable leader I have ever met—you’re a talented artist, a kind heart, and a sarcastic asshole with a hilarious sense of humor—another thing I know about,” Tony continued. As he rambled on he stepped closer and closer to Steve. “But you look in the mirror and see none of that. And you know what Steve? It sort of breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that the best person on this planet doesn’t get it.”

“Get what, Tony?”

“What everyone sees in you—what I see—how amazing you—”

It was a toss up between the two of them for who was more surprised that Steve had closed the distance between them and captured Tony’s lips in a kiss. But despite freezing for the briefest of seconds, Tony easily melted into it. And the ease of the kiss quickly turned into eagerness and desperation for more.

Tony stumbled back, pulling Steve along with him, trying to make it over to his bed. Steve got the picture and lifted Tony off his feet which caused a yelp to escape the brunette’s mouth.

“You okay?” Steve laughed and Tony blushed.  
“Shut up. It’s not my fault you’re a giant tree just waiting to be climbed,” he grumbled.

Steve gently laid Tony onto his back on the bed, hovering over and waiting to see what this moment was meant to be—he would never overstep his bounds with Tony. The ball was in his court right now.

And apparently Tony got the memo.

He slotted his leg between Steve’s and put pressure against the growing hardness that was there. Steve could not help himself but to rut against the feeling a few times before leaning down to kiss Tony again. The feeling of their lips together was sweeter than heaven—it was everything Steve had hoped for and more. He made a point of drinking in the moment so that he could remember it forever.

Tony reached up and buried his hands in Steve’s hair, holding him close as their kiss deepened. Steve broke their kiss to slip out of his suit jacket and Tony sat up at bit while Steve worked his jacket off, too. Tony unbuttoned Steve’s dress shirt quickly—the skillfulness of his mechanic’s fingers coming incredibly handy. They shucked it off to the side with Tony’s shirt that Steve eagerly yanked off—almost ripping it in the process.

Steve made quick work of removing their remaining clothes and his hastiness made Tony laugh.

“You’re beautiful, Steve Rogers,” Tony said, smiling up at him as their naked bodies finally slotted together. “And that blush only makes you more so.”

He kept eye contact with Steve while he playfully licked the length of his own palm. Then Tony reached down and wrapped his hand around both of their erections, holding them together and giving them a few languid strokes. Steve’s entire body shuttered at the sensation.

“O-oh, Tony,” he gasped, resting his forehead in the crook of Tony’s neck.

Encouraged by Steve’s reaction, Tony continued to stroke them together. It was not long before both of their hips were rutting against Tony’s hands—the air filled with their panting and moans. The feeling of Tony’s hand on him was electricity—every fiber of his being was being brought to life.

They rocked together—enveloped by Tony’s hands—closer than ever before.

The heat built up inside Steve’s lower belly faster than he anticipated. It was an overwhelming rush of blinding pleasure and it instantly sent him toppling over the edge into climax. His body shook against Tony’s—who came at the sight of Steve coming undone.

After a quick cleaning up, Tony tucked himself into Steve’s arms and they laid there—content and safe. Steve moves to look down at Tony, who responds by giving him a short kiss and smiling up at him.

“I love you,” Tony whispered.

And the words Steve had wanted to hear—to hear from Tony—made his heart soar. He could not keep the goofy grin off his face. Tony rolled his eyes.

“I love you too, Tony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to all my friends and the SLS mods who supported me during this time. I have been really ill and getting this posted was a struggle, but thanks to a lot of support...here we are! I hope you all love this work as much as I loved writing it. :) <3


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